Page 8 of The Vampire’s Receptionist (Charmed Away Temp Agency #4)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Dorian made it through the rest of his work day without issue, thanks to Kian’s insistence in helping him.

He intended to thank him again before he left for the day, but he ended up caught up with a few things and only the alarm on his phone reminding him to meet with Harlem stopped him from working all night.

By the time he was ready to leave, the reception desk was empty, and Kian was long gone.

A good deal of guilt sat heavily in his gut during his drive to Harlem’s home. He hadn’t allowed himself to fall into that kind of situation since he was young. It was unfair that Kian had to deal with him. He was only a temp and shouldn’t have been put in that position.

Harlem was waiting for him on his front stoop when Dorian pulled up along the curb. He got out to hold the door open for him, as was their custom. The kitsune didn’t look pleased to see him, which he expected, but his foreboding expression faltered when he took Dorian in.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Dorian replied with a shake of his head, opening the door and gesturing Harlem inside. His feeder obviously didn’t believe him but waited until they pulled away from the curb again before he started pestering him.

“Tell the truth. What’s wrong?”

He carefully kept his eyes on the road, mostly to avoid eye contact. “There’s nothing wrong. We haven’t spoken in a while. How was your week? Did you get to go to that concert you were looking forward to?”

Harlem waved that away. “Yes, yes. It was fun. Stop lying to me. You look like you got raked over the coals today. Was the fallout from lunch really that bad? I thought you said the person who helped you volunteered.”

He still didn’t look happy to admit that, but was stubborn enough not to drop the subject even when it made him uncomfortable. Dorian always admired just how stubborn Harlem could be. He saw life’s trials as a challenge and always faced them with his chin held high.

Since he knew better than to think Harlem would let it go and he didn't want to discuss it at the restaurant, he finally admitted, “I feel guilty. He did volunteer, and he was very clear that he wanted to help, but it was his first day. I feel as though I’ve tainted his entire experience there because I was too distracted to think about the consequences of my actions. I apologized, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. ”

Harlem softened a little. “Damn. I kind of hate you right now.”

Startled, he whipped his head around to look at Harlem before forcing his focus back on the traffic in front of him. “What? Do you really? I didn’t mean–”

He snickered, putting a hand up to stall Dorian’s anxious rambling.

“Stop. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just annoyed, because I wanted to be pissed at you, but it’s written all over your face how much you regret it.

How can I be mad when you’re so remorseful?

You’re really annoyingly genuine sometimes. It ruins my theatrics.”

Relief swamped him, and he sighed, allowing his shoulders to relax. “I apologize. If you wish, I can be more careless of your feelings in the future.”

He heard, rather than saw, Harlem scoff.

“Shut up. No, you can’t. The whole reason I’ve stayed your feeder so long is because you’re one of the good ones.

You were a little standoffish at first, which made me question whether we’d work past the first year, but you’ve proved time and time again that you actually give a crap.

If you say you’re sorry, I believe you. Now, enough with your pity party.

This guy doesn’t know you yet, so we need to figure out how to show him you mean it when you said you were sorry. Maybe a present?”

He frowned, pulling into the parking lot of Harlem’s favorite sushi restaurant. “I’m not sure that will work out. I don’t know him well enough to even guess what he might want.”

“Hmm, true. What does he do exactly? You didn’t tell me anything about him.”

Dorian waited until he came around the car and opened the door for Harlem before answering. “He’s a temp, as well as liaison for all the other temps who are assisting us during the hiring process. I also want to apologize to the other man who was there, but he left before I could.”

Harlem did a double take, incredulous. “Hold up. There were two?” He made a face. “I think you need to start from the beginning so I can get a clear picture of what happened. It’ll directly affect how your apology to them should actually go.”

This was why he kept Harlem around. He was supportive where so many of his past feeders were not. And he knew Dorian better than anyone else. If anyone could help him figure out how to fix this, it was him.

After a lot of brainstorming, Harlem helped him come up with a plan to apologize formally both to Kian and to the young man he’d frightened.

Expensive chocolates and a gift certificate to a nice restaurant felt a little impersonal to him, but Harlem pointed out that he didn’t know either man enough to do anything more personal, and it was the thought that counted.

They finished their meal while catching up, and he did eventually get the scolding he was expecting from Harlem for not prioritizing his health. It was when they headed back to Harlem’s apartment for his feeding that he started to feel unwell.

“Is everything okay?” Harlem asked as he came out of the bathroom. He liked to change into something comfortable for feedings, because he was often too tired to do so afterward.

Dorian frowned at his hands. “I’m not sure. I feel unsettled.” He shook his head to banish the feeling. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Sitting beside him, Harlem rubbed circles on his back. “Maybe it’s because you’re burnt out. When I used to work in an office and got to that point, I was anxious all the time.”

He wasn’t sure what it was that was making him feel this way, but he did his best to relax and get comfortable in the bed next to Harlem.

“Oh. Before we start, I forgot to mention that I started seeing someone. It’s not sexual yet, but I wanted to let you know anyway.”

Incubi had contracts that included sexual exclusivity, but Dorian never felt the need to put that restriction on his feeders. He couldn’t catch diseases through blood anyway. Harlem telling him when he was dating was merely a courtesy, and Dorian liked to hear about Harlem’s life.

“Tell me about him,” he requested. He hoped to distract himself from the churning in his stomach and listened intently as Harlem spoke, picking up his wrist and bringing it to his lips.

“He has a security company. He’s a nice guy, sweet, but he’s got major resting bitch face, so he doesn’t make connections often.

He– Oh…” He sighed, sinking into the bedding with a smile as Dorian fed.

His tone took on a dreamy note as he continued.

“He helped me when some jerk tried stealing my backpack on my way to class. Seriously, who steals a backpack full of textbooks?”

Dorian couldn’t answer, and Harlem didn’t expect him to, going on about how the werewolf working security nearby saw the commotion and came to help, beating the stuffing out of the thief before giving Harlem his bag back.

Kitsune weren’t defenseless, but Harlem barely topped five foot six and was adorable enough even Dorian felt the need to protect him.

Knowing Harlem, he’d take exception if Dorian was the one to do it.

He must have liked the werewolf to not express his displeasure first at being rescued.

He released Harlem’s wrist long before he felt like he was full.

His stomach was too upset to continue. Harlem was too euphoric to notice, for which Dorian was eternally grateful.

He’d probably demand Dorian see a doctor and that was an argument he didn’t need to have right now.

He tucked the kitsune into his bed, kissing his forehead as a thank you, and crept out of the room.

Harlem would fall asleep soon and recover the rest of the night and tomorrow.

He always checked in on him, but he didn’t feel like he needed to worry anymore.

As he stepped into the cool night air, locking the door behind him, he felt another wave of churning in his gut. He sucked in a deep breath to quell it, frowning. Vampires don’t get sick. What in the world was happening to him?

He managed to keep the contents of his stomach, despite the churning, all the way home, but by the time he settled into bed, it felt as though he hadn’t fed since the small amount he took from Kian during lunch.

Like feeding from Harlem was the same as drinking water.

That concerned him a great deal and despite the exhaustion tugging at his senses, he got up and spent some time doing research on his computer.

Spells came to mind, maybe a curse, but he didn’t know anyone capable of that.

Except maybe Kian?

It felt cruel to suspect him after his assistance that afternoon, but he knew very little about the fae aside from them being mischievous.

Some rumors said they were downright cruel.

And none shared their blood that he knew of.

He almost wanted to call someone to ask, but who would he even call?

Normally, it would be his mother that he’d call when he needed information like this.

With her gone, he wasn’t sure who else to turn to.

A now familiar ache in his chest burned a little brighter at the reminder, forcing him to give up. He was only making things worse. Tomorrow, he would discuss things with Kian. Perhaps it was a simple misunderstanding.

Or perhaps he made a grave mistake when feeding from a fae.